it's the alcohol in my system
by monkeyslut
Summary: Vodka, buddy, did you miss me?


Gossip Girl Drabble. I miss N/S. :(

Disclaimer: Not mine at all. Cecily's though.

* * *

_This place is a prison  
And these people aren't your friends  
Inhaling thrills through $20 bills  
And the tumblers are drained and then flooded again  
And again_

Ther're guards at the on ramps armed to the teeth  
And you may case the grounds from the cascades to puget sound,  
But you are not permitted to leave

I know there's a big world out there like the one i saw on the screen  
In my living room late last night,  
It was almost too bright to see  
And i know that it's not a party if it happens every night  
Pretending there's glamour and candelabra  
When you're drinking by candlelight

What does it take to get a drink in this place?

What does it take, how long must i wait?

_**- this place is a prison, the postal service**_

Sometimes you just want it all to end. You think of maybe getting drunk on vodka and high on drugs, not that it ever helped. Maybe slashing with the sharp end of an empty bottle then? Anything, really. But alcohol is your friend, and it was there no one was.

Not that you were ever lucky with friends and all that. Sure, you had them.. but you didn't have _have_ them. Like all those Gilmore Girls who were friends no matter what. It was never that easy with you. Hell, it was never that easy for the whole of UES. Nothing's easy here. But still, at least you've got the little you have.

The problem is, when you're really down –and usually uh, dirty – it gets hard knowing who to call. Blair? Depends – depends on whether you two are sisters, or bitches who want nothing more than to dethrone the other just for the hell of it. So yeah, it changes on a day to day basis.

Chuck? Uhuh. Like that would ever happen. Sure, you've grown close with all the _sis_ shit and stuff – but somehow it just wasn't right to tell all with that guy. Not that you don't trust him or something (you completely do, in fact) – it's just that he's Blair's, and maybe you just want to give her something that only she has. Something you didn't _share _between the two of you or something right? Chuck's was hers, and you didn't want to get in that mess too.

So who do you have, then? Dan? Huh. Imagine that. Just a month after you've broken up and everything, you can't even seem to fathom how you lasted that long. He's a great guy, really. What with the simple Brooklyn guy thing going on. Then you think, maybe that's it. You were never cut up to suit the simple. Life with you was with all the drama and the complications and the shit. Never the simple. Life with you was fucked up, and no amount of sticking with the Humphrey kid would change that.

So sometimes you just go with the other Humphrey. Jenny was always good to go if you wanted to laugh your problems away. Talk about fashion and style and beaches and living large and all that. Stuff yourselves with Doritos and salsa, tear up on all movies (but never _Tiffany's_, no never that). But Little J's like alcohol that way. After, you bump cheeks and promise to call later on, everything comes back in a bulk. All rolling on on you. Like when alcohol goes out of your system and you wake up to know that nothing changed anyway? Just like that. Little J and alcohol, express cure.

But then you realize you have Erik. Sweet, sweet Erik. Whose lfe isn't as fucked up as you, but fucked up all the same. Or something like that. Whatever it is, it just makes your hand freeze when you try to knock on his door. Maybe it's your maternal side waking up and telling you not to pour shit all over the kid's life when he has a crapload of his own already. So you stop, walk back, and drink.

_Vodka, buddy, did you miss me?_

---

The day after you drown yourself in all that shit like a common drunkard (not an alcoholic, alcoholics have class, you don't when you're drunk and tipsy and high and wasted and that's why you like it), you wake up with a pounding on your head and a warm feeling all over. _Oh shit, not again,_you think. You turn your head slowly, scared of what you would see. Random stranger or old bed buddy?

_Nate?_

_Hey, S. Came by and Lily said you were sloshed. Again. How's your head?_

You smile because this all seems so familiar yet so new. Something so old you'll never get tired of. Like home.

_Hurts like crazy. But I'm okay now._

And you know he understands that it's not just about your head.


End file.
